Collateral Damage
by alexi wild-child
Summary: A young girl is found brutally raped and beaten up within an inch of her life. When trying to solve her mystery, the SVU squad enters a world of domestic abuse and high school intrigues where everyone seems to have a dark secret.
1. Prologue

**COLLATERAL DAMAGE**

* * *

_Summary: A young girl is found right in front of Benson's appartment - brutally raped and beaten within an inch of her life. While the unknown teenager is lying in a coma, the SVU squad is searching for clues on her identity. Finding out who she is, though, is just the beginning of a puzzle with more than one solution. Benson and her colleagues have to untangle a threat that is much more than they bargained for: domestic abuse, school intigues and peer pressure pair up with much darker secrets.

* * *

_

**PROLOGUE

* * *

**

"Baby, c'mon!"

"No, please…"

"Don't be like this, baby!"

"Stop it! I really don't…"

The muffled conversation she overheard had a familiar sequence for Olivia Benson. Quickly, she turned her head left and right to see where the voices came from.

At the corner of the house, right under a streetlight, she saw a young woman and her male companion discussing. They were so caught up in their conversation that they didn't even notice the police officer.

"Please, baby!"

"No!" The woman said, her voice sounding confident and relentless as she went on: "I won't have another dinner with your devil of a mother! She hates me, and she doesn't even try to hide her feelings. So why should I?" She walked towards Olivia, obviously intending to also enter the apartment building, and paid no attention to her boyfriend.

Olivia felt a rush of relief running down her spine and started to search her purse for her keys.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!"

"What is it?" Olivia immediately reached down to her belt, drawing her weapon, as she hurried down the stairs to the building and ran to the young woman, who had stopped at the middle of the pavement. Her boyfriend, too, had joined her.

"There… There!" She pointed at something lying in the bushes by the house.

In the sparsely lightened darkness, Olivia could make out a body.

"There's blood," the woman said in a quiet, shaky voice and pressed her hand against her mouth. "There's blood. I stepped into a poodle of… of something, and when I checked it, I saw it was blood!"

Acting routinely, Olivia took a small torch out of her bag. A pale, bloody face appeared in the middle of the light cone. "Call an ambulance," Olivia told the young man. "And 911."

"Jane Doe. Hard to say how old she is. Young teen," one policeman reported as he hurried to follow Elliot Stabler through the ER.

At the end of a hallway, Stabler caught sight of his partner, Olivia Benson. A serene smile appeared on his face for a few seconds, but it was gone again when Olivia turned around and faced him.

"How is the victim?" he asked, not wasting any time on formalities like helloes.

"She's still in the OR," said Olivia. "Someone beat her down and raped her several times."

"Right there in front of your apartment building?" Stabler asked, knitting his brow.

"Probably not. Maybe he dumped her there. It was close to midnight when we found her and it's a quiet neighbourhood. Or she walked there on her own and collapsed."

"That would mean she knows someone who lives near," he concluded. "How well do you know your neighbours?"

"I've just moved in last week. I have no clue who lives under the same roof as I do."

"You haven't seen her before?"

"No, I didn't." For a moment, a knew thought came up in her mind: A young girl – barely more than a child – had been found almost dead, left on the street to die. Naturally, she had come across many perverted, ruthless monsters that had been capable of doing much worse things. It was a part of her life, but that didn't mean it could leave her unmoved. Her throat was laced up by anger for a few heartbeats, and she balled her hands into fists. People always thought it was Stabler who was too hot-heated and acted to impulsively, but inside of her, too, was a deep hatred and the longing to make those cowards suffer who took advantage of the weak.

"Excuse me, are you from the police?" A blonde woman in her mid-forties in a grey costume had approached and catapulted Olivia out of her thoughts.

The tension in her muscles eased, and she replied: "I'm Detective Olivia Benson, and this is my partner, Elliot Stabler. We're from the Special Victims Unit."

"I'm Doctor Isabelle Norrison," the stranger introduced herself, "I just talked to my colleagues. The girl is out of the O.R. now."

"Can we talk to her?" Elliot asked.

"I fear that won't be possible. She's seriously injured. We could stop the bleeding in her brain, but the wound is still swelling and imposes pressure onto the inner side of her skull. The pain would be too much, so we had to put her into an artificial coma. She also has a broken cheekbone, three broken rips, a fractured cheekbone and severe wound on her outer and inner genitals." The confident doctor bit her bottom lip – and atypical gesture for a woman like her, Olivia thought, before she continued: "And that's just the new wounds." Her eyes got glassy as she said that, and the detectives both sensed that this case had hit a sensitive spot in Dr. Norrison.

"Only the new wounds?" Olivia repeated softly.

"The X-rays show several healed fractures." She raised the chart she had been holding during their conversation. "On her right upper arm and all fingers of the right hand, broken in a straight line as if they had been trapped in a door and her left ankle has been fixed with a surgical nail. There are also scars on her back."

"So someone has been abusing the kid for some time," Elliot said.

"Someone close to her. A relative or caretaker, perhaps," Olivia went on. "And when she didn't want to play along anymore, he wanted to end it his way."

"Are there any clues on her identity?" he asked the doctor.

"She's about fourteen or fifteen, it's hard to tell. But beside that, I can't help you. She was virtually nude when she was found."

Olivia glanced at her watch: half past five in the morning. "We can start asking people in the neighbourhood about her in a few hours." There was nothing else they could do right now.


	2. Part 1

_A/N: Thank you all for your kind reviews. Your feedback encouraged me a lot. It's highly appreciated._ :)

* * *

**COLLATERAL DAMAGE**

* * *

**PART 1**

* * *

"Oh my God! Oh, that poor girl! Who would do such a thing?" Grey-haired Mrs Miller pressed a hand against her mouth as she shrieked. She had to lean against the doorframe while she looked at the photograph of the victim.

"That's what we're trying to find out," replied Stabler in a matter-of-fact voice. "Do you know that girl?"

"She was a little withdrawn, I thought, or shy. But dressed properly, not like so many other young people you see these days. A miracle, I daresay, when you take a look at the father…"

"So you know her?" Olivia concluded. "And her family? Do you know her name?"

"Of course I know her name! That's Casper, Mr Ramos' daughter. He lives on the eighth floor."

"What kind of man is this Mr Ramos?" Elliot asked.

"Well, he's… a little strange. Comes home at all hours of the night. I don't know if he has a regular job. He's from Cuba, if you know what I mean."

"I guess I do," he muttered.

Mrs Miller nodded gravely as the detectives thanked her and left, heading up to the eighth floor.

Olivia had to ring the doorbell several times before a muffled voice called out: "Jus' a minute." A black-bearded man with tousled hair opened the door. His shirt was unbuttoned and he rubbed his eyes.

"This is Detective Olivia Benson, and I'm Detective Elliot Stabler. I'm sorry we woke you up," Stabler greeted him.

"I just came home, I wasn't in bed yet," he muttered as he sleepily glanced at the IDs of the agents.

"Are you Mr Ramos?"

"Yes… I'm… I'm David Ramos. What happened?" he asked and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

"Mr Ramos, did you find your daughter when you came home?" Olivia asked.

"My… My daughter? She's at school, I think."

"Mr Ramos, we're afraid we have bad news for you." Olivia showed him the photo, carefully awaiting his reaction. "We think this might be your daughter. Can you confirm this?"

The exhaustion in his attitude was gone within a blink, and he starred at the picture wide-eyed as if Olivia had just hit him with it. "Oh no! NO!" His voice broke and he sobbed once as he starred at the picture. "It can't… Is she… NO!"

"She is seriously injured," Olivia told the shocked father, "but the doctors said her life is not in danger anymore. She was found unconscious in front of this building here last night."

"Maybe we should come in," Elliot suggested.

They followed David Ramos into his apartment. It was sparsely furnished – just the bare necessities, a couch and a kitchen in the corner, no ornaments but for a picture frame in an empty bookshelf. Elliot took a glance at it: Two black-haired children were both sitting cross-legged on a bed. The girl in the picture was smiling, but the boy's face expressed indifference and his eyes had a hollow look in them.

Olivia noticed piles of book in one corner. A notebook lay there, too, and several pencils were spread around it. _Genetic engineering: An Introduction_, she read one of the titles.

Ramos dropped onto the sofa and buried his face in his hands.

"When did you last see Casper?" she asked as she took a seat next to him.

"I don't know. She… She left for school yesterday morning and came home when I was gone. I… I think she came home."

"Which school does she attend?"

"Hewett High School."

"That's pretty far away," Elliot commented.

"She has been living with her mother's aunt till last month. When she died, she wanted to live with me… and she said she didn't mind to get up early for school," he said, sounding as if he was only talking to himself.

"Did she trouble any trouble? At school, for example?"

"I don't think so," he said. "I mean… I know this must sound strange to you, but her great-aunt didn't want me to have much contact with my children."

"Your children?"

"Casper's little brother. He lives in a therapeutic group home. He has Asperger's. Erm… Casper's pretty independent. I don't think she would tell me if she had had any trouble to be honest. But she's a clever girl. She wouldn't do anything stupid." He nodded towards the books in the corner. "She wins all these science competitions. She's really intelligent. Like her mom was."

"What about her mother."

"She died in an accident eight years ago."

Olivia felt he answered their questions sincerely enough. His shock and mourning were genuine, she could tell, and she felt sympathy for him.

"Did she work in that corner?" Stabler asked, not yet prepared to abandon his suspicion. "Does she have her own room here?"

"No, not yet. There is just this room and my bedroom in this apartment," Ramos replied.

"Where did Casper sleep? In your bed?"

"Yes."

Stabler pricked up his ears at that answer, but Ramos didn't notice. He simply sat there, looking down upon his palms as if the answer to all his troubled was written in there, or as if there was a personal secret within them

"Mr Ramos," Olivia went on, "the doctors discovered old injuries on your daughter. Some might be even a few years old, as far as we know. Did your daughter have any accidents when she was a child?"

"I don't know," he muttered. "Not when… when her mother was still alive. Her Aunt Momma has taken care of her sinc she was eight. She was in hospital a few times then, I think."

"You think?" Stabler raised his eyebrows.

"She was… a tomboy. She was… always… running around with her cousins. She liked to… to play ball a lot." His answers got more halting as he went on.

Did he have to think harder while making up lies, finding alibis, Stabler wondered.

"Her uncle watched them all. When he was out of work, at least," Ramos said.

"Did Casper ever mention anything?"

"As I said… I didn't see her a lot back then. I know… I… I haven't been a model father. But she came back. She visited me often when… when she was older. And she even wanted to stay here when her auntie died! I mean, I didn't screw it up completely!" For the first time during their conversation, he looked up and directly into the faces of the detectives, as if he was searching for reassurance.

"She didn't want to stay with her uncle?" said Olivia.

"The house if full already. He has… eight children of his own. But Casper is very close to her oldest cousin, Nate. He's a year older than her, but they're always together. At school, and after school… They were inseparable as children."

"What about her other friends? Does she have a boyfriend?"

"Her… Her two best friends both changed school last month, as far as I know. And there is… Seth. I know his father, too. Case and Seth have been best friends since primary school."

"Could they be more than friends?" she softly interrogated.

"No," he quickly responded. "She… I think her boyfriend's name is Dean. He's one of her cousin's friends. He and Nate brought her home one night." He took a deep breath and shook his head. "Can I see her?"

"Of course. She's in St. Vincent's Hospital," said Olivia. Continuing this questioning would be cruel, she realized then. This man was genuinely delirious and confused. If there was anything to confess, he would have done so now. But her instincts, which had been shaped by years and years of bitter experience, told her he wasn't the typical abuser.

"So our little Jane Doe got a name even before breakfast. Mazeltov," John Munch said drily as he dropped the thin manila folder onto his desk. It was a thin file so far, but they had just started investigating this case, and Munch's inner voice said that at the end of this, they would need more than just a few pages for their report.

It was just shortly past nine o'clock in the morning, but as always, time was against them and they had to find as much as possible – as _soon_ as possible. So back at their office, they didn't intend to stay there for a longer period of time.

"Yeah. Casper Ramos, daughter of an Exile Cuban _artist_." Staber hissed the last word and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "He sells a few pieces of his work every once in a while. But we should investigate that further. The guy isn't Daddy of the Year."

"Yes," said Benson, "he already told us he made a lot of mistakes. But whatever happened to Casper, I don't think he did it."

"Let's wait and see," her partner replied and leaned Munch's desk as they talked. "We will go and take a look at the people at her school. Friends, teachers… We should have a private conversation with her boyfriend. Dean… whatever. And her cousin, Nathan Haynes. The father says the two were close."

Munch adjusted his pair of shaded glasses. "Anything we can do?"

"You should go and talk to her uncle. The guy practically raised her. If someone knows how she got all her bones broken, it's him. And don't buy it when he tells you she had been a clumsy child," Elliot said sharply.

"I know." His skinny colleague sighed. "I didn't start this job only yesterday."

Marcus Marcello looked like a big child: He was an enormous man with a youthful face, even though he must have been in his thirties already. But what was most striking about him was that his charisma fitted his juvenile look. For a school counsellor, this certainly was a useful trait, Olivia thought.

"Casper is a fine girl," Marcello said and leaned back in his office chair. The detectives Stabler and Benson were sitting at the other side of the desk, listening attentively.

"I'm… I'm sorry." The counsellor closed his eyes for a few seconds and folded his hands on his round stomach. "I'm simply shocked to hear about what happened to her."

"So are we," assured Stabler.

"But I don't know if I can help you finding the monster who did that. Honestly, the kid sat there – right in front of me. In the very chair you now sit in, Detective Benson. And you know what she did? She told me a bunch of lies! She played a role. Perfect girl, perfect family, perfect grades. She would have deserved an academy award for that performance!" He chuckled drily.

"Can you explain that?" Olivia asked. "Why did she need counselling?"

"She is a complicated kid."

"Could you explain that further?"

"She is a troubled kid. She's intellectually gifted and that alone is hard enough for most teenagers. Her mom died when she was only a kid, her father was never around, as far as I can tell… Without any real guidance in her life, she got a few weird ideas. Oh, and she definitely lacked discipline."

"Did she blow up the chemistry lab?" Elliot half-joked.

"Nearly." Mr Marcello's face stayed serious. "She talked back to teachers, played stupid pranks. Once, she plastered the school with pornographic posters stating the students should all come naked for spirit week." He chuckled. "Thinking back, it's funny. Really. Or last year, when she was late for her literature class, her teacher asked her if she knew what punctuality was. And she answered that was one of the secondary virtues you need to organize a concentration camp. Well, homicide jokes are a sensitive topic."

"What happened?"

"When the principal wanted to see her, she came with her grandfather's rabbi." Eventually, he leaned back in his office chair and shook his head. "She has a strange sense of humour. And a mouth too big for her own good."

"Did she have problems with other students?"

"I've already told you: She painted a world as rosy as a fairy tale for me. I thought I would crack her shell some day if I only gave her time… But that didn't happen so far."

"Who should we ask then if we want to learn the truth?" Olivia said.

"You could start with her oldest cousin. Nathan Haynes."

"What about her boyfriend? Do you know his name?" asked Stabler.

"Dean Washington. The halfback of the football team."

"Did she have other friends?"

"Her two best girlfriends both changed school last month. But you could talk to Seth Rubinstein Another friend of hers."


	3. Part 2

_Thanks again for your reviews. You're the best. ;) I hope you enjoy the next part. Your guesses, by the way, are highly appreciated as well... :)

* * *

_

**COLLATERAL DAMAGE

* * *

PART 2

* * *

**

"Heavy traffic! Got stuck in the Holland Tunnel." Detective Fin Tutuola didn't waste any time greeting his partner with wishing him a 'Good morning'. The morning wasn't a good one, anyway, as far as Tutuola was concerned: How could it be with a young girl beaten up so brutally that the only state she had a chance to survive was a comatose one?

"I already did some research on the kid." Munch just hung up the receiver. "I called social services and they have a file about our victim."

"Can they send it?"

"Unfortunately not. They have not filed it on their server yet, so we have to go and get it ourselves."

"Fine. What are we waiting for then!"

"By the way: Why did you have to use the Holland Tunnel?"

"I had to see Kenny. His aunt died last night, and I wanted to tell him in person this morning." Looking at Munch, he added: "_Maternal_ aunt. No relative of mine. Didn't even like the old dragon."

The two detectives followed a young social worker through the open plain office while they talked. Tutuola despised the atmosphere of these places: Loud and crowded, like hens in a laying battery. Only they didn't simply lay eggs here. They made decisions that could change a childhood - and an entire life – for the better or worse.

"Ramos. Well, the case is not really a serious one. I mean, the boy, as far as I'm concerned… Yeah… Here it is…" Fiona Miller, as she had introduced herself, flipped through a file. "The boy is fourteen years old and has Asperger's Syndrome. He has been living in a group home where he gets psychological support for four years now. I just received the case last week, and I'm supposed to go and see him for the first time today."

"So you don't know him or his sister personally yet?"

"His sister? Excuse me, detective, I thought this was about Caleb Ramos." She stopped in front of her desk and gave the two men a puzzled look. "Could you maybe tell me what this is about?"

"Caleb's sister was attacked last night," Munch said.

"Oh my God!" She pressed her hand in front of her mouth. "Is she okay?"

"She isn't. Now, do you have anything about here?"

Once more, Mrs Miller flipped through her manila folder. "There she is… Casper Ramos. The first time we met the family was shortly after the parents' divorce about ten years ago, as I can see here. That's why you can't find anything about the sister in our computer system. Here you can read it yourself." She handed Tutuola the papers.

"The father beat up his six-year-old daughter, brought her to a hospital and claimed the mother did it." he paraphrased what he had been reading. "Seems as if our mourning daddy has a few violent tendencies we should take a closer look at."

"What about during the marriage? Any domestic violence? Or when Casper lived with her great-aunt?" Munch asked.

Tutuola shook his head. "No other traces of martial or child abuse. How's her brother doing in his group home?"

"Well, according the my colleague's report, he's fine. He gets frequent visits from his sister about twice or even three times a week," the social worker said. "The psychologist wrote she is, on fact, his closest confidant."

"Daddy it is then," Munch muttered. "Let's invite the guy for an interview."

"I tell you that kid was nothing but trouble. You want to know the truth? If we weren't the first public school to receive the Euler-Liljestrand Science Award thanks to her, I would have her expelled," the principal explained plainly. Lisa-Marie Petersen was a stern middle-aged woman who had her hair tied up in a bun. Her expression barely expressed pity when she heard what had been done to her student.

"Expelled? Why?" Olivia raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Isn't that a little drastic for making tasteless jokes about genocide?"

"I see you talked to Mr Marcello already? That's just the peak of the iceberg." She put her hands onto the desk in front of her and leaned slightly forward. "She corrupts other students. Did you hear what people she spends her time with? I had her best friend, Irene Cohen, expelled for harassing a fellow student in the girl's bathroom and vandalism. Last spring, Casper, Irene and several others of my students went missing to attend the Burning Man Festival in Nevada."

"They got there all by themselves? All the way to Nevada?" Elliot couldn't hide the fact that he was impressed or at least amused.

"Yeah. And when I confronted them, Casper thought she should lecture me about encouraging individualism in my students, and granting them freedom to express themselves. That girl was sociopathic! She never understood when she was doing something wrong or going too far. I've handled similar cases, and they never ended very well."

"Still she didn't deserve being attacked and raped," Elliot snapped and glared at the woman. "I think that she was a smart and neglected kid who would have needed a little more understanding."

Mrs Peterson breathed in sharply but kept quiet. Instead, she straightened her back and folded her hands into a knot so tight that her knuckled turned white.

"We would like to talk to her cousin," Olivia continued in a matter-of-fact voice. "Nathan Haynes. And her boyfriend, Dean Washington."

Suddenly, the expression on the principal's face softened as she shook her head. "Poor boys. They're both good children, you know. Nathan is our star quarterback. And such a polite boy he is! Never causing any trouble – unlike the rest of his siblings. Three boys and four girls – all attending this school. And he's the only one who makes something out of himself."

"Really?" Elliot muttered.

Nathan Haynes was a sunny boy, as far as Olivia could tell. He entered the room with a serene smile on his face. The moment he looked at someone, you got the feeling that you've known him all your life already and you could trust him. Some people simply gave others that impression. He was indeed a polite and also charming young man, she learned as she interviewed him in the counsellor's office.

His smile immediately vanished, though, when she told him why his younger cousin hadn't been in class this morning.

"No way!" he called out and almost jumped to his feet.

"I'm sorry. But…"

"No!" he contradicted vehemently. "Case can't be… I mean she wouldn't let have anyone do that to her!"

"Nathan, this is not about _letting_ anyone do it."

"I… I know. I'm sorry." He massaged his temples as he continued: "It was stupid of me to say this. I'm just… shocked. Case is usually a tough one. It's hard to believe that someone would… I mean that she would end up like this."

"You and your cousin are close?"

"Yeah, sure. We grew up together. When my mom left, hers was taking care of me, too. And when her mother died, Case practically lived with us. My grandma lived next-door, and Case was always over at our house." He shook his head. "How is she now?"

"The doctors had to put her into an artificial coma."

"For how long?"

"They can't tell yet."

"Will she… will she die?"

"I really don't know, Nathan."

"Please, call me Nate." He chuckled softly. "Everyone does. Do you know "Nathan the Wise Man"? Case's dad once told us the story, and then she said I was only allowed to call myself Nathan again if I became a wise man, too. She always had those crazy ideas!"

"What kind of person is Case's father?"

"Screwed up," he replied without thinking, and then, he stopped and took a deep breath. "He is… not really familiar with the concept of responsibility. He takes drugs, he drinks, he gambles… He wouldn't have been able to raise Case and Caleb all by himself."

"Did he ever physically hurt your cousins?"

He lowered his gaze and starred down at the floor. "I really don't know," he answered slowly, as if he had to take more care of what he said now.

"Is there anyone else you can think of who would want to hurt her? Any trouble she has been in lately?"

"No, really. Everything has been fine. Normal."

"Do you know what she did last night?"

"No. She usually works on her science project in the evening."

"Don't you really have a clue? This is important, Nate. We have to find out where she has been, or whom she met."

"I really don't know, I'm sorry. And I can imagine her having contact with… – I mean seeing someone who would do such a thing. Not on her free will, though. She wasn't hanging out with criminals or something."

"Her great-aunt – your grandmother – has been her major caretaker for the past few years. Wasn't she sad when she died?"

"Sure, she was. But she's not the type of person to let it show." He looked up and gazed directly into Olivia's eyes. "Can I see her? Please!"

"The doctors have to decide that, Nate. Is there anyone else I could talk to? Someone who might know what she did last night?"

"Well, she's also friends with my girlfriend. Taylor Fairchild. She's the stepsister of Casper's best friend."

"Irene Cohen?"

"Hell no!" He laughed out once. "Vicky Saintjames. Irene was… a freak. You know: Tree-hugging psycho with metal through he tongue and all… Case was a little weird, too. But she knew when to behave herself. She knew how to fit in."

"Good for her then." Olivia sighed.

"It was a little strange," Nate went on, eventually sounding as if he wanted to talk. "Vicky was part of the popular group. You know: Cheerleader and all that. Case and her are really close. Almost like sisters. And at the same time, Case hangs around with the odd kids as if that's no big deal."

"Was Vicky one of your cousin's friends who also changed schools?"

"You've already heard about it? She transferred to a boarding school after Irene attacked her in the girl's bathroom two months ago."

For the first time during their conversation, Olivia was genuinely surprised. "Do you know why?"

"Well, the entire _school_ is asking the same question, detective, but nobody knows anything. Maybe Case has a clue – she was the only one who was friends with them both. But she never said a single word about it to me."

Olivia made a mental note to take a closer look at that incident as well. Her instincts whispered into her ear, and the way her stomach fluttered, she felt there was more behind it.

"Didn't she tell you anything? Did she have plans for last night?" It was the fourth time Stabler asked that question to the victim's boyfriend, Dean Washington.

The Afro-American teenager kept his gaze trained down into his folded hands that were slightly trembling. "No… Really. How is she? Is she going to be okay?"

It was also the fourth time the detective replied: "I really can't tell you anything."

"But you can tell me that she was nearly killed and maybe will never wake up again…" The boy had made a cheerful and open impression when Stabler had introduced himself, but as soon as the teenager had learned about his girlfriend's fate, his behaviour had changed drastically. He had taken in the news comparably badly, reacting almost traumatized.

"What has she been doing these past few weeks? Since she moved in with her dad, for example?" Stabler tried.

"She was okay. I mean she didn't appear to be too okay. She worked on a science report for a college application or something like that."

"What did you do last night?"

"I was home."

"Alone?"

"My parents and brother were away on my aunt's birthday. I stayed home because I had to study for a math test." Slowly, he looked up. "I asked her to come over, but she refused. She said she wanted to help her dad."

"Now you remember?" He raised his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, I… I just can't think straight."

"She really means a lot to you."

"Course."

"She's your first girlfriend?"

"She's the first girl who ever means something to me." He started to chew on his bottom lip. "I've never met anyone like her. Isn't there any way I can see her now? Just for a minute or two!"

"You should discuss that with the doctors and her dad."

"I've never met her father. Not really, at least. Nate and I, we once brought her home after school when she was feeling sick. She had stomach cramps and couldn't even walk properly." He put a knuckle into his mouth and chewed on it for a few seconds before he went on: "Shortly before her aunt died, she slept over at her dad's, and the next day, she came to school and she acted strange. She moved carefully as if she had been in pain. She didn't want to touch her that week – she avoided me and then she stayed home and said she had the flu."

"You think your dad would hurt her?"

"I've never met him, but… I thought it was strange."

"For how long have you been a couple now?"

"Nine months."

"Did you ever suspect that someone mistreated her during these nine months?"

"No. She was fine."

"The doctors found traces of old abuse. Did she ever mention anything?"

Dean shook his head, but then froze. "She has scars on her back. She said she once tried to climb over a barbed-wired fence as a kid and hurt herself."

"I see."

"That girl was beaten into unconsciousness! She was severely injured and virtually nude when we found her! She was either raped right in front of your apartment building, Liv, or someone left her there." Elliot walked to the black board they had pinned the victim's photo onto and back to his desk.

"Maybe she stayed conscious for long enough to walk there on her own."

"In her underwear? Someone sure must have noticed!"

"This case is…" Olivia buried her face in her palms and rubbed her eyes. "How did she get there?"

"Maybe it happened at home. As far as we know, it's likely that she was abused before. Probably by her father. This time, though, things got out of hand. She passes out and he brings her down and leaves her in the bushes so it looks as if someone else raped his daughter."

"I don't know. Her father doesn't act like the typical abuser. He seems… lost. Not aggressive."

"Well, the child welfare service has different information," Munch interrupted his colleagues as he and Tutuola joined them. "He has beaten her before. Here." He gave Benson a manila folder.

"So why don't we invite Daddy Dearest to another interview? Get Huang. He should take a look at that guy, too," Elliot decided.


	4. Part 3

_Thanks for the piece of advice on the section breaks. I just noticed that I had them in my original document, but erased them. And don't worry about the Asperger's thing. If you had two college dorm mates who had Asperger's, you certainly know how hard it is for them to learn how to interact with people. The symptoms of the disease, however, get better when you diagnose it as early as possible during a patient's childhood and work with them. It's the same as with autistic children, by the way. If they get the right treatment, they are much more open than if you only let them sit in the corner…_

_As you might know, some people - sadly - can't even raise children who don't have special needs properly, so it's only more difficult with Asperger's children. So in the case of Casper's brother: If the caretakers can't provide a healthy environment that meets the child special need, it is often advised to let them – mostly temporarily – live in therapeutic group homes. You will understand why Casper's brother couldn't stay with her, I promise. I will explain more about Asperger's as well._

_Anyway, enough talking. Thank you all for your encouragement. I hope you enjoy the story today. :)_

_

* * *

_

**COLLATERAL DAMAGE**

**

* * *

**

PART 3

* * *

"I already told you: I was at a bar. Till five a.m. as far as I remember. There were a few guy… Erm Tommy LaMarc and Dennis… Dennis something. You can ask the barkeeper. Lil' Reno, that's the name of the place. It's in… I forgot the address. We played poker. Twenty-fifth street… Somewhere around there. We played poker and I lost some money…"

Interviewing David Ramos was frustrating, Elliot and Olivia soon found out. They walked around the room and this seemed to make him even more confused, but that way, they hoped, he would tell the truth.

Not the worst strategy, Dr. Huang knew. He watched the scene through the one-way-mirror and tried to puzzle together what he saw.

Ramos was obviously not a very balanced man. He looked tired and worn out, his hair was greasy and uncombed. Huang didn't think that this neglected appearance had been caused by the shock about his daughter – something was haunting him for longer than just a few hours.

"I haven't seen her after she left for school that morning!" Ramos' voice sounded angrier now, the man was slowly losing his patience. "I would never do any harm to my children!"

"You already did!" Stabler banged his palm onto the table right in front of the suspect, and Ramos flinched. "The child welfare service knew what you did to get back at your ex-wife ten years ago, and the doctors have proof that this wasn't the only time you hurt your daughter!"

"I love her!" he screamed and threw his arms into the air. "I'm not father of the year, but I would never hurt my children! I… I knew screwed up back then!" His attitude changed within a blink when he bent his back low over the table and buried his face in his hands. Looking up again, he explained quietly: "I loved my wife. And when she left me, I was desperate! I was scared of losing my children as well, so… I was drugged up when I beat Case. I didn't want it! You know how terrible I felt afterwards?" He swallowed and shook his head as he gazed up at Stabler, who was towering next to him. "You don't know my dead wife's family. They were looking down on me because I was Cuban! They're so… Well, Case was too scared to tell her uncle and great-aunt that her boyfriend was African American. Ask Nate if you don't believe me! And her aunt… She was telling my wife all kind of bad things to break us up."

"What do you say?" Cragen, who stood next to Huang, asked.

"He still calls his dead ex-wife his "wife" – he feels connected to her, even after a divorce and her death. We should keep that in mind. He's also disoriented and confused. You see how much he sweats?"

Not only had he dark wet marks under his armpits, his hands were also shaking.

"He's an addict," Cragen said.

"I love my children!" Ramos' voice broke and his shoulders started to shake.

"We have to get him off the drugs," Huang said.

"Cold turkey," the captain noticed.

Olivia seemed to have realized what was going on with the suspect as well, cause she leaned down to him and said: "We can get you help. I believe you that you didn't want to hurt Case. Maybe… Things got out of hands. Teenager can be difficult. And when you've been on drugs again, there are ways to help you."

"I didn't do it! I… I have to get out of here. It's so… hot! Isn't it hot in here?" His skin was beaming wetly by then, and his breath fastened. "I want to see my daughter! I… I need to see her!"

"Tell us what you did, and you can! You can see her and get help!"

"There is nothing to tell!" He shot up so violently that the chair tripped over and Stabler grabbed him under his arms to hold him back. "I DIDN'T DO IT!"

"We stop this here," Cagen decided.

* * *

"So Daddy's a druggie and still the main suspect," Fin paraphrased the progress they had made in this case. "Huang arranges for him to go into rehab until he's off the drugs again. That is: Until his body is clean again. About his mind... Anyway, that will take him about forty-eight hours, depending on what he's physically addicted to. No to mention the psychological side to it. And…" But he stopped mid-sentence when a doctor approached him and his partner.

"Sorry, I had an emergency. I'm Dr. Nelson." He looked as if he was just out of med school, Tutuola thought.

Hospitals, too, belonged to the kind of places he detested: Busy and hectic, anonymous and not much comfort in between the four walls. He wouldn't want to die in a hospital – or stay there for a longer period of time.

"How's Casper?" Munch asked.

"Not good, that's why we called you. The girl is dangerously malnourished which led to more complications."

"Anorexia?" the Jewish detective asked.

"Well, I don't know. All we can say is that due to her underweight, her immune system is down. Hospitals are full of germs, and even a comparatively harmless one could lead to a lethal infection, so we had to bring her into a sterile environment."

"She's still in a coma?" Tutuola said.

"Yes. And we will have to keep her comatose for longer than we actually planned. I can't tell you for how long exactly, that depends on the swelling in her brain."

"How are her chances?"

"Not too good. I tried to reach her family. Someone should come and see her."

"That bad?"

"No, but…" The young man sighed. "I have a weird theory: Patients with family heal better and faster. Especially children. And that kid needs all the support she can get."

"You're talking about my cousin?" A male voice asked, and the detectives turned around synchronically.

A blonde young man was standing behind them, looking at them with fear filled eyes. "I'm here to see Casper Ramos. I'm her cousin. Nathan Haynes."

The doctor nodded slowly. "You should come with me then, young man." He smiled briefly.

"Can I go and see her, too?" Tutuola asked.

"Well, the nurse will show you where she is." Dr Nelson sent Nate away with a nurse while he asked the detectives to stay a behind a moment longer. "We also did a rape kit," he reported. "No fluids. But there is something else I noticed: She must have tried to defend herself."

"Why?"

"Well, she was covered in blood, but her finger nails were clean. My guess is that the offender cleaned them thoroughly to make sure we wouldn't find his DNA."

"So he was at a place where he could take his time to destroy evidence," Munch said.

* * *

Haynes residence, the house of Case's uncle, was a petty and slightly shabby terraced house. The colour came off the face of the building, and a broken tricycle was lying on the front porch. The place made a neglected impression to Olivia, and from experience, she knew that these traces didn't normally signal a protected environment and balanced home life.

"Doesn't look any better than the dad's apartment," Elliot muttered, and Liv silently agreed.

The floorboards cracked under their soles as they stepped onto the front porch. The doorbell didn't work, so Olivia knocked. A few seconds passed before the door was opened a few inches, and the chain rattled. Olivia saw half a face and a bright green eye over a feet under her own eye level. She and Elliot showed their I.D.s.

"We're from the police. Special Victim's Unit. Would you open the door, please?"

The person in the house closed the door again. A lock clicked, and then the detectives met a slender, black-haired girl, probably in her early teens who looked up at them through dark-rimmed, reddish eyes.

"Hello, I'm Olivia Benson, and this is my partner, Elliot Stabler."

"I'm… I'm Demi."

"Who's at the door?" a male voice shouted through the house, and heavy footsteps approached.

Olivia noticed how Demi flinched and held on to the door.

A broad-shouldered, almost bald man appeared besides the girl and eyed the detectives suspiciously.

Stabler introduced Olivia and himself again. "It's about your niece," he continued. "May we come in? We probably should talk in private."

"What did the girl do this time? I knew she wouldn't last long if she stayed with that no-good idiot of a father!" Mr Hayes shook his head, and Olivia noticed that he appeared to be satisfied. "Nothing but trouble, all these years that I raised her…" He also seemed too eager to complain about his niece and wasn't too concerned about her wellbeing.

"Mr Haynes," she interrupted him determinedly, "Casper was attacked and is in hospital now."

"Oh." He grumbled and then let the two in. "Take a seat, please. Gosh, I knew this couldn't end well!"

"Is Case going to be okay?" Demi asked fearful.

"Demi, go up and rest a little." Her father brushed briefly over her hair. "I'll go and check on you in a minute."

"But Case…"

"Now!" His voice sounded tense, and his daughter obeyed hastily. "She's sick, that's why she isn't at school today," he explained.

As they sat down on the couch, he shook his head again. "Poor girl. Wasn't easy raising her, I tell you. She was always a difficult child. But she doesn't deserve being mistreated by that bastard, father or not. She's also part of my family, you know… I kind of feel close to her. Like a real dad. I've been raising Case since her mother died – together with my poor momma."

Still, you're not too interested in what really happened to her, Olivia thought. Normally, he should ask about her. "She was found outside her apartment building. Someone beat her up and raped her. She's in hospital now. The doctors had to put her into an artificial coma, so you can't talk to her now." Though she guessed that he didn't care about having a conversation with his niece.

"When will she wake up again?" he asked, and she was mildly surprised about this reaction. Maybe she was being too critical?

"They don't know," Elliot said.

"Can I have her back then? I mean she can't live with that bastard anymore, can she? Did you lock him up yet?"

"You seem pretty convinced that her father did it," Olivia said.

"Of course! Who else?"

"Mr Ramos was sent to a clinic. He is obviously addicted to drugs."

"I know. He has always been. In and out of rehab." Haynes sighed. "I had a bad feeling when she went to live with her dad after my momma's death. She's a difficult child, and she needs discipline. Structure. Two things her father's certainly can't give her."

"What do you mean by "discipline"?" Elliot asked.

"Rules. I made sure she did her homework, went to school… Stuff like that. What normal parents do."

"And what if she didn't obey these rules?" Elliot continued.

The victim's uncle chuckled. "All I had to do was take away her books for a few hours. Or ground. That kid was either running around, or reading."

"We have found evidence that she has been injured a lot," Olivia eventually admitted.

"Her father. Whenever she was with him, some "accident" happened. Well, I wasn't too suspicious, since she was always a little clumsy. Fell off trees, ran into doors… But there was something else."

"What?"

"Once, when my cousin Brooke – Casper's father – was still married, my momma came to check on the kids one morning. Brooke had left her fine husband alone with Casey. You know what that pervert was doing? He was showering. With Case! That is… just sick, isn't it? And when I confronted Brooke, she said that they often did that. She thought it was no big deal! That's disgusting!"

* * *

Tutuola had seen the latest school picture of Casper Ramos before her had come to the hospital. In the photo, she had been a rather pretty sixteen-year-old with dark-brown hair and dark-brown eyes, her Cuban heritage serenely visible in her classic features.

The girl lying in the isolation room, though, barely resembled that kid. Her left cheek and left eye were swollen, her face bruised, and several other blue marks were running down her neck to her collarbone and further down under the collar of her hospital scrub. Her bruised lips were closed around a white tube, and she looked even skinnier than she was already. Helpless. Not like sixteen, Tutuola thought, but like a little child.

Before he and her cousin had been allowed to enter the room, they had had to clean scrub their hands and arms with antiseptics and put special cloaks over their clothes, sterile gloves and masks over their mouths.

Nathan Haynes looked down at his little cousin, and though only his eyes were visible, the detective sensed he was deeply sad about what he saw.

"The doctor said she's going to make it. It's just going to take a lot of time," the detective eventually broke the silence that had been laying over them for more than five minutes.

"I didn't picture it to be that bad," Nate said. "She once broke her fingers in the doorframe and nobody noticed until two days later. She hardly complained. There's nothing she can do if she sets her mind to it."

"You were close?"

"We grew up together." He chuckled. "It was never boring with her around. She had a lot of crazy ideas, but you could always count on her to be on your side if she were your friend. My siblings… Well, all they could do was arguing and blaming each other and telling on each other. Casper would never do that. She never does," he added and lifted his head.

"So she's good at keeping secrets."

Turning around slowly, Nate gazed at Tutuola. "I know what you're trying to get at. But there is no big dark secret behind this. Just… some sick bastard did that to her. There are lunatics out there who just do such things for fun, right? People get attacked all the time just because they're at the wrong place at the wrong time!"

"So you don't think her dad did it?"

"No!" he contradicted heartily. "I know what I said to you colleague this morning. I was just… confused. But I thought it over, and I don't think he could ever do that." He reached out carefully and brushed over Case's forehead.

* * *

"We had the dad's apartment searched. And we found something indeed," Cragen reported as soon as his team was gathered in the office again. "There was blood on the carpet in the bedroom. Someone scrub it off, but as you know, we have our methods… No fluids, though, but they're still combing the place."

"So it's likely the attack happened at her home," said Olivia.

"The father?" asked Munch.

"We had his alibi checked. He was at the bar – spent the last two hours there passed out in a backroom. We can rule him out as a suspect, I'd say," said Benson.

"Didn't anyone notice anything? No witnesses?" asked Munch.

"We asked the entire apartment building again. No clues," said Stabler.

"The uncle gave me a weird feeling, though. He wasn't really too concerned that his niece was in a coma," his partner said.

"Yeah, but he was eager to blame the father, and to get his Casper away from and back into his home," replied Elliot.

"Sounds all a little strange to me. We should question the oldest cousin again. He seemed pretty… _moved_ when he saw what happened to the girl," told Tutuola.

"Detectives?" a young police officer approached them. "There is a girl waiting outside. She says her name is Nichole Delaney and she wants to talk to one of the detectives who investigate the attack of one of her classmates. Casper Ramos."

"I talk to her," Olivia volunteered as she peaked to the door. A girl with long blonde hair stood there, looking around with a strained smile on her face.

* * *

"Do you want something to drink, Nichole?"

"No, thank you, Detective. I'm fine," she refused politely. "I heard you were at my school this morning, because…" She lowered her gaze. "…Because of Casper."

"Was she a friend of yours?"

"Yeah, kind of. Well, we three were best friends: Vicky, Case and I. But since Vicky went to boarding school, Case and I kind of drifted away. Mainly because she changed, I think."

"How did she change?" Olivia leaned forward.

"She was always a bit… I don't know how to say it. But she has a boyfriend, and she's still making out with other boys. That makes Dean pretty angry. And last month I saw she had bought a pregnancy test, and I heard her talking on the phone to someone a little later. I think the test was positive. But I don't think it was Dean's."

The detective raised her eyebrows at that. "That sounds pretty serious, Nichole."

"I know!" she called out softly and wrinkled her forehead. "And I hate telling you all this. Case is still my friend. But I feel I have to, since this might be the reason she was attacked. It might have been Dean because he was angry. Or maybe some other boy she… you know, she was involved with."

"Do you know any of the boys?"

"We have that list… The boys make a game out of it. You get fifteen points for a freshman, ten for a sophomore, seven for a junior and five for a senior."

"Seriously?" Olivia had heard about many cruel and superficial high school games, but this sounded grotesque.

"The girls on that list… Well, they're not really the ones you would want as your girlfriend. Here." Nichole took a few pieces of paper our of her leather handbag.

"How did you get that?"

"From one of the boys on the football team."

Olivia scanned the papers, and saw the victim's name on it several times. Connected to various male names. "I see."

* * *

"Teenage promiscuity. I can understand it in Casper's case, though," Huang said. "She must have felt rejected by her father, had no adult to really connect to, and now she searches for something."

"To be loved," Olivia said. "Isn't that also a hint at sexual child abuse?"

"Yeah, in some cases, children who have been sexually abused change partners often to compensate their feeling of being unworthy." Huang rearranged a few of the items on his desk to get some time to think this new situation over. "So we have a teenaged genius with an active sexual life."

"According to a list that is part of a childish, but illegal high school game," Olivia said and sank back into the armchair Huang had in his office for visitors. "We already informed the principal about it. Half of these intercourses are illegal, since most girls have been underage while their partners were over eighteen."

"Casper's partner, too?" It mildly surprised him that he used her first name. He hadn't seen as much as a photo of that girl, but somehow, her case intrigued him.

"Dean has been seventeen when they appeared on the list – he's eighteen now, though, as are two of the others."

"What do you think about her emotional balance?"

"She's close to her older cousin – but they also appear to be equal."

"He respects her, too?"

"He said he couldn't imagine something bad ever happening to her – he said she wouldn't let anyone do this to her."

"That almost sounds as if he idealizes her. That's unusual. She's over a year younger than him." He cupped his chin with one hand. "You should wait and see who's visiting her. Try to get something out of him while he sees her."

"So you think there was definitely a relationship between Casper and her attacker?" Liv asked.

"Whoever did it – he's very angry. The way he raped and beat her lacked respect and was very violent. Destructive. And these cases are often personal. I checked the database, but there is no contravener that fits the profile of attacking young women in their own home and leaving them like this."

"Do you think he wanted to kill her?"

"I think he didn't care if she lived or died. He wanted to possess her very desperately, and as soon as he did, she was no longer of any worth to him. Maybe she has even known him for a longer period of time. He craved for her, but she rejected him. That was something his ego couldn't take, so he took more and more drastic measures to get her. Not getting what he wants doesn't fit into his self-image. You're searching a very self-absorbed man," explaind Huang.

"You get all this out of… practically nothing?"

"If it was a relationship crime. I studied her injuries. You have to be very disturbed to do that to someone else."

"What a coincidence: I think that about many cases."


End file.
